We had our "Christmas" on Christmas Eve. Our son, Steve, and his family (wife, Melissa; sons Logan (12) and Carson (8)) came up a little after 5 pm for supper and ripping open of gifts. Joyce roasted a lovely tenderloin roll, and we also had some Dyer-Family traditional fare: a Christmas tree-bread, some steamed pudding (from my Grandmother Osborn's recipe--a concoction so sweet that your teeth form cavities as you merely look at it).
We also sang--as my family always did--"Joy to the World" just before we ate, and later in the meal we all recited "A Visit from St. Nicholas" ("The Night before Christmas"), a fairly recent tradition. We took turns with lines and stanzas.
I had memorized that poem back in elementary school for a school holiday event, and, years later, decided I wanted it back in my head. Didn't take too long. I've discovered that re-learning things you once memorized is a pretty quick enterprise.
After the meal, we headed into the living room and the gas fireplace (!!), opening and laughing and loving the whole thing. Far more fun to give than to receive these latter years.
Steve, et al. soon zoomed away (miles to go before they slept) a bit later, and Joyce and I got at least a start on the clean-up (it still continues!).
On Christmas morning, Joyce and I slept till 7 (late for us). We got dressed and had our own little gift exchange. We had agreed to give each other only a single thing, a book, so she gave me the next novel in Jennifer Egan's oeuvre (A Visit from the Goon Squad, 2011--a Pulitzer Prize-winner, signed! I'm on a journey through all of Egan's work), and I gave her Paul Auster's recent novel 4 3 2 1, which Joyce had loved (1st printing, signed). Nerd Fun!
We also had co-purchased a new Cuisinart blender (our old one was making death rattles).
Then we drove over to Starbucks, read the newspapers, read from our books. Then an exciting trip to the gas station.
Home, I promptly headed up for a nap that consumed some two hours! Joyce worked in her study.
A late, nap-delayed lunch. I did a little work in my study, then felt yet another nap coming on. Yielded to it. When I woke, I went to the back bedroom adjoining Joyce's study and found her also in the arms of Morpheus. I lay down beside her, and we talked for an hour while Morpheus lingered a bit to see if we still required his services; we didn't. A wonderful hour.
We had a light supper (leftovers!), then drove to the Kent Cinema to see Downsizing, which was a real surprise (in a good way): The trailers we'd seen had all suggested it was going to be a frivolous comedy with major roles for Kirsten Wiig and Jason Sudeikis. Nope. They turned out to be minor characters, and the brew of the story was quite different from the froth we had expected. More in "Sunday Sundries" here in a few days.
Back from the movie, we streamed a little Broadchurch, then noticed Morpheus had joined us in bed. Lights out ...
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